Albequerque
by Levena Hearts
Summary: this is a parody of the ingenious song by wierd al yankovic, 'albequerque' on his album, 'running with scissors' which is highly unsafe, which why i do. rating for for legolas getting married to frodo, but no smut.


A/N: standardized testing is evil. Its too flippin easy. I wrote most of this while sitting in a boiling classroom singing to myself, drinking diet dr. pepper and eating honey BBQ fritos. Yub nub. Okey-dokey. Legolas' POV  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or Albuquerque by Weird Al Yankovic.  
  
Albuquerque  
  
Lothlorien  
  
Way back when I was just a little-bitty Elf and I was living in a carboard box under the stairs of the Mirkwood Palce surrounded by a whole lotta evel crap, you know the place. Well anyway, I was swell and everything was juuuuuuuuust PEACHY! Except for the undeniable fact that every mornig for breakfast, the servants would serve me a big plate of lembas. A BIG PLATE LEMBAS! EVERY SINGLE MORNING! I was dirving me crazy! Well one day, I asked my father why he let them make me eat such horrible nasty stuff. He looked at me like a cave troll looks at a hobbit. Then, he leaned down right close to my little pointy ear and shouted, "BECAUSE IT'S ELVIN FOOD!" Then he tied me to the wall and stuck a funnel in ym mouth and force-fed me nothing but lembas till I was 1,624 ½ years old.  
  
It was then that I promised myself that one day I would escape from this palace and go to a magical, far away place where the sun is never shining, and the is evil lurking, and my slippers are oh so FUZZY! Where the goblins and the deamons play their ukelales al day and anyone in the mines will gladly braid your hair for a nickel!  
  
Waka-waka. Doo doo YEAH!  
  
Well let me tell you Elf peeps, it wasn't long before my dream came true. Because the very next day the precussion players were having a contest to see who could correctly guess the number of molecules on Bilbo Baggins' butt. I was off by 7, but I still won the grand prize.  
  
A really nice, well-trained pony, to Mo-o-o-o-ria-a. To Mo-o-o-o-ria-a  
  
Well, I had only ridden tall horses before, and let me tell you, it was just great. Except for the fact that I was stuck riding between to guard Elves with excrusiatingly bad body odor. And the little buggs kept biting me the whole time. And about halfway through I ran out of fresh berries and other tasty tidbits. And the horseshoes fell off, and ponies started slipping and we lost our control and we fell into a ravine and everybody died! Excpet for me. You know why?  
  
'Cause I was wearing my really cool hat  
  
And my head was covered up, so I'm alright now  
  
"Cause I was wearing my really cool hat  
  
And my head was covered up, so I'm alright now  
  
'Cause I was wearing my really cool hat  
  
And my head was covered up, so I'm alright now  
  
(laughs)  
  
So I crawled from the twisted, bleeding bodies. I crawled on my hands and my knees for three full months. Dragging along my big old leather suitcase and my hair supplies and my tenor saxaphone and my 10-pound lucky rock, and my really really evil gold ring.  
  
And finally I arrived at the way famous Moria evil-ful gates. Where my slippers are oh so FUZZY! And you can eat your tasy tidbits right out of the sinks, ig you want to. It's okay, they're clean. Well I checked into my room and I opened the windows and I closed my doors and I was just about to eat tasty tidbits out of my sink, which I love so very, very much when I heard a knock on my door. I said, "Who is it?"  
  
No answer.  
  
I said, "Who is it?"  
  
There's no answer.  
  
"WHO IS IT!"  
  
They're not saying anything!  
  
So finally I go over and open the gate and just as I expected, there was some big fat Orc with a flock of seaguls as a hat and only one nostril. I hate it when I'm right. So he jumps into my room and he grabs my evil ring and I say, "Hey! You can't have that! That evil ring's been nothing but evil to me!"  
  
And he's like, "Tough!"  
  
And I'm like, "Give it!"  
  
And he's like, "Make me!"  
  
And I'm like, "…K!"  
  
So I grabbed my bow and he grabbed his sword and I shot his ass and he cut off my blond hair and I ripped off his seagull hat and he gave me something really nasty that I can't pronounce or spell. And somehow, in the middle of it all, my cell phone got turned on. And about 20 seconds later, a familiar voice came on the line. Do you know what it said? I'll tell you what it said! It said:  
  
If you would care to make a call  
  
Please hang up and try again  
  
If you need help hang up your phone and dial your operator  
  
1 If you would care to make a call  
  
Please hang up and try again  
  
If you need help hang up your phone and dial your operator  
  
In Mo-o-o-o-ria-a. Mo-o-o-o-ria-a.  
  
Well, to make a long story short, he got away with the ring of power. I then took a solemn vow that I would not rest, I would not shut my eyes for an instant until the one-nostriled Orc was brought to justice  
  
But first, I decided to get some donuts.  
  
So I hopped on my pony and I went through the forest to the Donut Shoppe. I walked right up to the guy behind the counter and he said, "Yeah, Whadd'ya want?"  
  
I asked, "You got any glazed donuts?"  
  
He said, "Naw! We're outta galzed donuts!"  
  
I said, "You got any jelly donuts?"  
  
He said, "Naw! We're outta jelly donuts!"  
  
"You got any Bavarian crème-filled donuts?"  
  
"Naw! We're outta Bavarian crème-filled donuts!"  
  
"You got any apple fritters?"  
  
"Naw! We're outta apple fritters!"  
  
"You got any bear claws?"  
  
"Hold on, I'll go check. (musicale interlude, or really bad guitar music) Naw! We're outta bear claws!"  
  
"Well what do you have?"  
  
He said, "Well, right now, all I've got is this box of one dozen starving, half-crazed weasels."  
  
I said, "Ok, that'll do."  
  
So he handed me the box and I opened up the lid and the weasels immediately jumped out and latched themselves to my face. (snarls) Man, they were just going nuts, tearing apart my face. You know, it was about that time when a little ditty started going through my head. It went a little something like this:  
  
(A whole buncha really gross and disgusting snarling and growling)  
  
And I ran out in the street with all of these weasels on my face. Waving my arms around and running, running, running, like a constipated weiner dog. And as luck would have it, that's exactly when I ran into the one of my dreams. His name was Frodo. He was a jewelery enthusiast with a slight overbite and hair the color of strange peaches. I'll never forget the first thing he said to me. He said, "Hey, you've got weasels on your face."  
  
That's when I knew that it was true love. Oh man, we were inseperable after that! Aww, we ate together, we went on quests together. We even shared the same piece of mint-flavored dental floss. The world was our burrito.  
  
So we got married and we bought us a house and we adopted two beautiful children together: Goldilocks and Lemony Snicket. We were so very, very, very happy. O yeah. Until that one fateful night when Frodo asked me, "Sugarpumpkin? Do you want to join the Colombia Record Club?" I said, "Whoah, baby! I'm just not ready for that sort of commitment!"  
  
So we brokeup and I never saw her again. But that's just the way things go, in:  
  
Mo-o-o-o-ria-a. Mo-o-o-o-ria-a.  
  
Well, after that, things really started looking up for me. Mainly because I'd finally achieved my lifelong dream. That's right. I got me a part- time job at the Mines' Gate. I even made employee of the month after I scared that horde of Orcs off with my face, oh yeah, everyone was pretty envious of me after that. I was getting a lot of attittude. Like this one time, I was out in the parking lot trying to clean the earwax outta my ears with a golf pencil. Then I saw this guy from work, Gimli, trying to move a 800-pound sofa up the stairs by himself. Being the caring person that I was, I asked him if he would like any help. He said, "No, I want you cut off my arms and legs with a chainsaw!"  
  
So I did.  
  
Then he started getting all indignant on me. He's like, "Hey man, I was only being sarcastic!" Well, now, how was I supposed to know that? Do I look like a mind-reader or something? Besides, now he has a really cute nickname, Torso-Dwarf! So what's he complaing about?  
  
Say, that reminds me of another amusing anecdote. This one time I saw a Elf in the street and he told that he hasn't had a bite in three full days. Well now, I knew what he meant, but I still took a big 'ol bite out of his Jugular Vein. And he starts yelleing and screaming and bleeding all over. Completely missing the irony of the situation. Man, some people just can't take a joke.  
  
Ummmm… Where was I?  
  
Well okay, I know that this is sort of a round about way of saying this but the whole point I'm trying to make is…  
  
I HATE LEMBAS!  
  
Yeah that's all I'm really trying to say here. And by the way, if you ever happen to wake up in a living hell called the Fellowship, full of evil and self-doubt and people turning you away just because you're stunnigly handsome, then you can rest assured knowing that somewhere out there in this crazy, messed-up Middle Earth of ours, there's still a little place…  
  
Called Mo-o-o-o-ria-a. Mo-o-o-o-ria-a.  
  
Moria-a (Moria-a)  
  
Moria-a (Moria-a)  
  
Moria-a (Moria-a)  
  
Moria-a (Moria-a)  
  
I said M! (M!)  
  
O! (O!)  
  
R! (R!)  
  
(musicale interlude, or more really bad guitar music)  
  
EE-A! (EE-A!)  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-a, Moria-a  
  
Moria-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!  
  
(belches)  
  
A/N: in microsfot word, this is 7 pages, or 1,724 words, or 9,227 characters, or 91 paragraphs, or 224 lines long. That was fun. 


End file.
